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before I
was caught from behind and dragged back by the hair. I thrashed
against Alfonzo’s hold, losing my footing and falling on my ass all
the while Logan merely stood and watched.
    “You done?” he asked when I stopped fighting
and lay on the ground heaving in air while Alfonzo kept hold of my
hair.
    “She’s one feisty bitch. I’m going to fuck
her raw when you’re done with her.”
    Logan moved fast, knocking his hand off my
hair and grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him against the
van. “She’s mine. You get that. You don’t get to touch
her—ever.”
    The guy’s face went beet red, and his lips
pursed together as he spit out, “She’s not yours. Raul owns her,
and I train all his girls before he sells them.”
    The aluminum crinkled as Logan slammed him
into the van again. “She’ll be sold when I’m ready to sell her. You
touch her again like you did at the farmhouse ... I’ll cut off your
cock and shove it down your throat.”
    Alfonzo’s eyes glared at me lying on the
ground, but finally he put his hands up, and Logan let him go.
    “Get up.” Logan stood in front of me, his
feet inches from my hands that pressed into the gravel. He
stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. “Now.”
    “Fuck you,” I said and threw a handful of
gravel at his face.
    He was on me before my next breath, taking
my arm and without hesitation dragging me toward another car. I
pushed backward with my feet, trying to gain my balance, but he was
walking too fast, and I couldn’t do anything except feel the stones
digging into my hips as he pulled me across the driveway.
    “Transport her with the rest of them,”
Alfonzo yelled. “Bitch needs a fucking lesson. She arrives after
that, she won’t be putting up much of a fight.”
    As soon as Logan let me go, I leapt to my
feet and was about to run when his hand trapped me by the throat.
“Don’t do it, Emily. You run and I have to chase you, it won’t be
pretty.”
    I was wheezing past the pressure he had on
my neck, my hands on top of his trying to peel back his
fingers.
    A wave of memory—Logan’s hand on the back of
my neck—came plowing into me, and my breath hitched. No, don’t
let me remember. Don’t. Please. I swear I heard him whisper my
name, but it had to be my imagination. My mind was trying to find
some sort of hope to grasp onto when there was nothing, and I
wondered if maybe I was going crazy.
    “Tell Raul I’ll contact him once we cross
the border.” Logan opened the passenger door to the Lexus and put
his hand on my head like the police do when they’re putting
criminals in the back of a cruiser.
    I got in and noticed two guys sitting in the
back seat. I recognized them, but I didn’t know from where until it
suddenly hit me as Logan walked around the front of the car. The
fight—the bodyguards. The night Kat and I went to Sculpt’s fight
and I asked him to teach me self-defense. These men had been in the
back of the warehouse watching Logan.
    But that was months ago.
    Oh God. Had they been watching me for weeks?
Had every day with Logan been a lie? Was he, what, testing me for this? I started hyperventilating as I thought of all the
times I’d been with Logan. How he cradled me in his arms as we sat
watching the horses. How he was so protective of me. Why would he
have protected me if he was going to let me be beaten?
    Confusion weaved so much anxiety over me
that I was having trouble breathing. Logan knew these guys. He’d
known them months ago. The truth was ... Logan did this to me.
    The door slammed as Logan got in. He started
the car and sped off. I noticed him glance briefly in the rearview
mirror at the two men and frown like he was pissed off. At them? I
thought he frowned at least, but I was thirsty and delirious and
couldn’t be sure if what I was seeing was real or what I wanted to
see.
    “They were at your fight.”
    Logan stiffened, looked in the rearview
mirror again, and his hands tightened on the steering